I've discovered what is bad about a feather comforter. It's sooo warm that even me, Miss Cold Blooded herself, can curl up in it and be TOASTY in ten minutes. But this lovely, wonderful, fantastic thing has a problem.
....even after I leave, it stays warm. On a cold winter morning, I wake up. I'm warm. I'm happy, until I remember I have to get OUT of bed. *shiver* Finally I make myself. I jump out, get dressed. I go back to the bed fifteen minutes later and find that it is still deliciously warm under the comforter. I climb back in and am lost to the world for another hour.
*groan*
Onto a much more important subject: last night I heard a man pray. He's barely had an eighth grade education, he reads only haltingly, can barely write more then his name, has been a farmer all his life...but last night I heard him pray and it made me cry. I've only rarely heard a prayer with more feeling, more genuine love for Christ, more eloquence. Yes, eloquence. I've heard men with the highest education possible pray less beautifully. I wish I had the depth of love that allowed me to talk to God in front of others in such a way. He was so reverent, so holy, and yet so personal and real.
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savetheolives's junior piano recital is in a couple of hours! Don't let her ever tell you differently - she's amazing. I'd probably be wildly jealous if she wasn't my best friend, and that's the truth. I pretty much just sit there in awe when she plays. :)
